Between Brothers
by expectopatronuts
Summary: After the war, things between Percy and the other Weasleys are not exactly right, but for George family is more important than ever.


Author's Note: written for the QLFC, Season 5

Round 5: Write about a character holding anger and resentment towards someone they love.

Team: Pride of Portree

Position: Beater 1

Word Count: 1,013 excluding Author's Note

Prompts (bolded): 15. (dialogue) "Never use my name and his name in the same sentence. Ever."; 12. (object) toilet paper; 3 (dialogue) "I wish you had told me before I… " / "What? Before you what?"

* * *

"I need the report for the Bones case on my desk this afternoon."

Dutifully, Percy wrote it down on his to-do list. "Yes, Mrs Green," he said.

Mrs Green was barely gone when a short, bald wizard poked his head in the door.

"Magical Maintenance needs these copied as soon as possible," he said as a stack of papers floated over to Percy's desk.

This time, Percy didn't even have time to nod before the wizard was gone in a flurry of robes, leaving the door open. Moments later, it closed on its own. Percy knew that not everybody had the manners to close the door behind them, so he'd placed an auto-closing charm on it.

He had just dipped his pen in black ink to start on the Bones case file when his door opened brusquely and a goblin walked over to him, setting a folder down on his desk with a heavy _thud_.

"The Minister has declared the Gringotts affair to be highest-priority," he said in a voice much deeper than his stature suggested. "So get on it."

Percy nodded and waited until the door had closed again to let out a sigh. He looked at the mess on his desk, trying to decide what to do first—and of course, he would undoubtedly pick the wrong thing—when he heard the door open again. This time, he didn't bother to look up. Whoever wanted to bark orders at him would do so regardless.

"There's no **toilet paper** in the men's room, Weatherby," said a familiar voice. "It's of vital importance that you replenish—ouch!"

Percy looked up to find George rubbing a spot on his head where the door had hit him.

"What are you doing here?" asked Percy, with a disapproving frown. "I'm working, George, I don't have time—"

"Ah, that's the problem, dear brother," interrupted George, stepping into the room just as the door began closing again. "You never have time."

Percy straightened himself and gestured to his desk, piled high with books and papers.

"Well, _I_ , unlike others," he said with a pointed look at his brother, "have a serious job."

To Percy's mounting annoyance, George laughed.

"A serious job?" he repeated. "Doing what? Copying reports? Filling out forms?"

"Well, _yes_ ," answered Percy, perhaps with a bit more heat in his voice that he had intended. "I'm a functionary, a bureaucrat. Someone needs to do this kind of work, you know?"

George smiled, but before he could say anything, the door opened.

"Weasley!" It was the bald wizard. "Where are those copies?"

Percy got up, pointing at an undetermined pile of papers on his desk.

"Almost got them, Mr Abenathy," he managed to say.

"I don't need 'almost', I need 'now'!" said Abenathy, before slamming the door shut behind him.

That was the second kind of door-related rudeness which Percy abhorred, but unfortunately he hadn't had time to charm the door against it yet.

"You see?" said George. He was serious, not even a hint of mischief in his eyes. "They're working you like a slave, and you don't even realize it."

"It's a demanding position," answered Percy curtly.

It was true that it wasn't the best paid, or the most glamorous job, but since the war he'd lost his appetite for power.

"So demanding that you can't spare the time to visit us anymore?" asked George, sitting down on the only extra chair. "It's almost like when you were working for Fudge."

Percy got up so abruptly that he almost knocked his chair over.

"Don't," he said, his voice even, his index finger pointing straight at George. " **Don't say my name and his in the same sentence. Ever.** "

George's eyebrows shot up, and he raised his hand in a placatory gesture.

"All right, all right, no need to get your wand in a knot," he said with a little smile. "I'm just saying, I thought we'd patched things up. You know, before—before the battle," he finished.

Percy looked away and pressed his lips together. He sat down and tried to calm his breathing.

"Well, we didn't really, did we?" he said after a while. " _I_ said sorry. Sorry for being a power-hungry prat and sorry for leaving you guys and sorry for another thousand things," said Percy. "But _you_ said nothing."

George made a little puzzled face.

"Nothing about what?" he asked.

Percy could see it was an honest question, but it only irked him further.

"See?" he said. "You _see_?" He was sitting on the edge of his chair. "You don't even realize!"

"Realize what, Perce?" asked George.

"Realize that I was the family's laughingstock for two decades, that's what!" burst out Percy. "Realize that all the fun you had at my expense got to me! Realize that maybe, just maybe, if you'd been a little less—well, _arseholes_ —with me, I wouldn't have run away from home!" He slammed his hand down on the table. "Is that enough for you, or should I go on?"

George had gone pale, and he was looking at Percy like he was some sort of animal who, until then, nobody had thought could be dangerous.

"Man, Percy…" he began. " **I wish you had told me all this before I** …"

"Before you what?" interrupted Percy. "Huh?" He wiped sweat from his forehead and waved his hand in a tired gesture. "It wouldn't have made a difference anyway. You would have called me a sissy and kept on with your so-called jokes."

Before George could answer, the door opened again and the goblin poked his head in.

"I need the Gringotts papers, Weasley," he said. "Sooner rather than—"

"Sod off," said George. "You'll have them tomorrow."

The goblin and Percy started to protest at the same time.

"And you," said George, pointing at Percy. "Shut up." Surprised by the force behind George's words, Percy did. "You're coming to dinner tonight."

"But I have to—"

"I don't care." George cut him off. "You can worry about that **toilet paper** shortage tomorrow," he said with a smile. Then he grew serious again. "We're patching things up, this time for good. I already lost one brother. I'm not about to lose you too."


End file.
